The Cursed Beast Caught My Leash - Chapter 82

Stella looked at the man holding her tightly and repeatedly kissing her wounds with a complicated expression.

His actions resembled those of a creature tenderly caring for an injured mate, leaving her unsure how to continue her train of thought. She couldn’t figure out how to deal with him, who seemed to have completely lost his reason.

“Islay.”

When she cautiously called his name, their eyes met again. Could he possibly understand her?

“Here, it hurts a little here too…”

Islay parted his lips and looked down at the messy junction between them. The heavy presence lodged in her abdomen twitched, growing. Stella struggled to swallow down a sob.

“If you could just take it out…”

He reached down with his hand. Gone was the usual delicacy in his gestures as he grabbed the insides of her knees and spread her legs wide. Anticipating the pain based on her prior experience, Stella thrashed about.

“N-No…! It hurts, I said it hurts…!”

“……”

“Don’t! Please don’t do it…!”

Her flailing kicks didn’t faze him in the slightest. However, what touched her swollen mound wasn’t the searing pain she feared.

The phallus, deeply embedded like a stake, withdrew. Islay, releasing her body, buried his face without hesitation between her legs.

Startled, Stella halted her kicks against his shoulders. A damp sensation reached her tender, swollen lower half. The ticklish contact came from the soft, wet tissue of his lips and tongue.

It wasn’t frenzied or lustful caressing. Islay simply seemed intent on easing the pain of her injured area, just as he had done earlier to her face.

For a long time, Stella stared down at the black hair brushing against her lower abdomen. Her emotions were indescribably complicated. Unconsciously, she stretched out a trembling hand and slowly stroked his silky black hair.

Islay lifted his face to meet her gaze. His pupils were as black as his jet-black hair. The ruby-like red irises that once sparkled were nowhere to be seen.

Stella silently looked into those dark eyes as she continued to stroke his hair. She slid her fingers slowly between the strands, smoothing them down. Seemingly pleased, he pressed his cheek against her pale thigh and rubbed against it.

Through gritted teeth, Stella let out a shaky breath, struggling to hold back tears. Despite the fact that he could crush her with one hand, his towering figure appeared pitiful to her.

Time, laden with anguish, seemed cruelly slow. Stella had once wished for the time spent at Islay’s side to move as sluggishly as a broken clock, but she never dreamed it would come true like this.

The bright sunlight streamed in through the fluttering curtains.

As soon as the darkness filling the bedroom lifted, Islay fell asleep. Like a black beast most active at dusk, it seemed that his body, now little more than a host for the creature, followed the same instincts. Due to some unknown cause, he retained only the habits of a beast.

For a long while, Stella held her breath, watching the man’s peaceful face. Carefully, she moved his head onto the pillow, then hastily picked up her wrinkled dress and hurried out of the bedroom.

By the time she descended the stairs and reached the first-floor hall, she still didn’t know what she wanted. Standing in front of the firmly closed door, Stella turned back to glance past the staircase. Her golden eyes shimmered like waves.

After composing herself, she tightened her grip on her collar. She pulled the bell rope, causing the bell hanging on the door to chime.

With a creak, the door opened, and a guard standing watch appeared. Stella put on the most composed expression she could muster.

“Um…”

“Is there a problem?”

“…No, it’s just… could you bring some food?”

“Understood. Is there anything else you need?”

Stella swallowed dryly, her slender throat bobbing. Forcing a smile, she shook her head.

“Nothing.”

She couldn’t tell anyone that Islay had acted strangely, that he had lost his reason and taken her.

Perhaps… After sleeping for a day, he might return to his old self.

Clinging to that fragile hope, Stella watched as the door of the tower closed again. Chains as sturdy as those that even an axe couldn’t cut looped around it, and the lock clicked shut.

Once more, it was just the two of them.

Watching the door shut with a resounding thud and not trembling would have been a lie. However, Stella did not run away; instead, she began moving with determined purpose.

First, she searched Islay’s coat and found the herbal remedies he usually took. Unsure how to administer the medicine to him while he was asleep, she remembered that even the fumes from burning it could have an effect.

She lit the dried leaves, placed them in a small glass jar, and set it beside his head. Now, all she could do was hope the medicine would take effect.

Afterward, she replenished her strength with a light meal. Her body, overworked and deprived of even a sip of water, could only handle some fruit, but it was enough.

The aching soreness in her muscles, as if she’d been beaten all over, didn’t fade. Soaking in steaming hot water might have helped, but there wasn’t time for a leisurely bath. She settled for a simple wash instead.

Stella glanced at herself in the mirror without thinking. Bruises, faintly greenish, marked her body where she’d been pressed against the stone floor. Imprints that could only be explained as handprints were scattered all over her skin.

Turning her head away from the sight of these bruises, she adjusted her clothing, ensuring everything was neat.

Then, she returned to Islay’s bedroom. Carefully, she lay down next to the man who was still deep in sleep. His sharp, defined features, bathed in the light of the setting sun, appeared even more beautiful.

“Perhaps I was too greedy,” she whispered, slowly running her hand over the solid body of the man who looked so strong.

“Would it have been better if I had sought out Father Padro immediately? Perhaps we could have freed you from your binding sooner, sparing you this suffering…”

Her soft voice carried a hint of a sob.

“I only wanted to spend even a little more time with you.”

The time they had together was limited. She only wished to spend those fleeting days in closeness, without regret. That was all.

Had that been her mistake? Stella felt as if her chest was being pierced by a knife, thinking that all of this might have been caused by her selfishness. She wished she could have left him with enduring, supportive memories instead.

“I’m sorry.”

She whispered her apology softly, pressing her flushed cheek against his broad shoulder. She barely managed to swallow the surging waves of sorrow.

That was when Islay slowly opened his eyes.

“Oh…”

Startled, Stella rose halfway up. His gaze, which had been fixed on the empty air while blinking slowly, shifted to her.

Holding her breath, Stella stared into his eyes. Was he truly the man she knew? In the dim evening backlight, she couldn’t immediately read his expression.

“…What are you sorry for?”

Islay asked in a deep, drowsy voice. Stella couldn’t bring herself to answer and exhaled a shallow breath. What she saw were red-tinted eyes.

“Ah… damn it.”

Rising from the bed, Islay lightly cracked his neck. It was unusual to hear such rough language from him.

His cold face bore an expression of irritation, as if he’d woken from a nightmare. Stella bit her dry lips and cautiously observed him as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Did he not remember?

‘If that’s the case, maybe… maybe it’s for the better.’

Just as that thought crossed her mind, Islay turned his head, locking eyes with her before she could fully conceal her expression.

Islay briefly furrowed his brow.

“Estella.”

“……”

“Have you been crying?”

“…Ah.”

Stella instinctively started to shake her head but stopped. She was fully aware of how unkempt she must have looked. Her puffy, reddened eyes left no doubt that she’d been crying.

There was no way to deceive him. She gave a small shrug instead.

“You were sleeping deeply. It seemed you were very tired and didn’t wake for a long time.”

The excuse she came up with flowed surprisingly smoothly from her lips.

It wasn’t entirely untrue. The gentle, rational man she had always known had merely been briefly asleep. He’d been swept away by the symptoms of his monstrous transformation, like a storm cloud engulfing him.

“I was afraid to be alone.”

She infused her trembling voice with sincerity. Islay, faintly showing confusion, reached out his arms immediately. Sitting on the sheets, Stella crawled on her knees to lean into his chest.